Page 46 of Challenged By the Mountain Man

"I don't want you to be anyone else," she says. "I like you exactly as you are. Grumpy mountain man and all."

I huff something that might be a laugh and pull her closer. "Get some sleep. We've got the rest of your two weeks to figure out the details."

"Mm. Good plan."

She drifts off within minutes, her breathing evening out, her body relaxed and trusting against mine. I stay awake longer, staring at the ceiling, thinking about what comes next.

It won't be easy. Long-distance relationships, even ones that are only forty minutes apart, take work. And I'm not exactly built for easy communication or emotional availability. I'm going to fuck up. Probably more than once.

But she's willing to try anyway.

And for her, I'm willing to try too.

Maybe I can't give her everything. Maybe I can't be the kind of partner who takes her to fancy restaurants or busy social events. Maybe I'll always need the mountain, the solitude, the quiet that keeps me sane.

But maybe I can give her enough. Maybe slow and steady and willing to try is enough to build something real.

Maybe we don't have to have all the answers right now.

When I finally fall asleep, tangled together with her in the too-small bed with Bear back and now curled up on the rug in front of the fire, I don't have nightmares. I sleep straight through the night, dreamless and peaceful.

And when I wake up to morning light filtering through the cracked window and Hannah's soft breathing against my chest, I realize something.

I'm not alone anymore.

I don't have to be.

She stirs against me, her eyes fluttering open, and when she sees me watching her, she smiles.

"Morning," she murmurs.

"Morning."

"Still okay with the plan?"

"Yeah," I say, and I mean it. "Still okay with the plan."

She kisses me, and I kiss her back, already thinking about the next twelve days we have together. Twelve days to show her everything about the mountain, to teach her what she needs to know, to build a foundation for whatever comes next.

And then she'll leave.

But she'll come back.

That's the promise we're making to each other. Not forever, not right now, just... we'll try.

And somehow, that's enough.

Epilogue 1 - Hannah

Six Months Later

The bell above the door of Wildwood Community Bank chimes for what feels like the hundredth time today, and I look up from the deposit I'm processing to see Mrs. Sophie coming in with her weekly check.

"Good morning, Mrs. Sophie," I say with a smile.

"Morning, dear." She approaches my window, then leans in. "So? How is he?"

I don't need to ask who she means. In the four months I've been working here, this has become our routine. Mrs. Sophie comes in, makes her deposit, and asks about Griffin like he's some kind of cryptid she's been tracking.